Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 112001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
“I don’t know what to say—”
“You don’t have to say anything. Just take your staff with you. I’m going to have to shut all this down in the next week or so because I can’t afford to pay them anymore, and you know you’re going to want the continuity of work. Rhobes will hire them all. They’re the best of the best, right? And then you’ll have me as your patient one. If you’ll have me.” She held her palms up. “I have nothing better to do with the end of my life, and nothing to worry about, either. The banks and the creditors can fight over what’s left, split it up, write off the rest. And I’ll coast out having finally been useful.”
“What if you live, though,” he said remotely. “What if she cures you.”
“We both know there’s a toxicity issue that has to be sorted out. With my advanced cancer, you’re going to have to hit me so hard, there’s no way I’m going to make it for long. But you’ll be able to prove it works, and you’ll learn things that will help you help other patients. In that, I have a future. Of a sort. Right?”
His eyes drifted over her face, and he remembered the first time he’d seen her in person. He’d read about her in the papers, but the photographs hadn’t done her justice—and it wasn’t her facial features or the Ice Queen window dressing, either. It had been her eyes, so hard and sharp. No softness in them at all.
It had made him want to find out if there was anything in there, behind the curtain of control.
“What.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Will you please say something? And if you’re trying to compose a nicely worded brush-off, I’ll tell you right now, I’m your best chance. I have the right markers, and you know it. Besides, we were on this track until… things happened and you said you wouldn’t administer the drug.”
Gus opened his mouth. Closed it.
“Jesus,” she snapped. “Will you say something?”
“I don’t want to kill you.”
At that admission, she didn’t miss a beat. Even stepped up closer and put her hand on his upper arm, like she was consoling him. “But don’t you get it? I’m dead anyway. Let me do something good on the way out—that’s… what the baby was for, when it was with me. Gus, we were on this path. We just need to get back… on the path.”
He returned to the moment he’d told her she was pregnant. She’d been to MD Anderson for regularly scheduled scans and assessments, but they’d neglected to pay any attention to the results of the hCG test they’d given her—probably because so much had been going on with her cancer.
She hadn’t believed him, so they’d tested again in-house.
“Why can’t I seem to leave you,” he said roughly.
Her eyes flared like he’d surprised her. Then she whispered, “You don’t have to. Leave me, that is.”
THIRTY
AS DANIEL SPOKE up, Lydia felt a strange shimmer come over her, and because she didn’t know what else to do, she picked up a random bear from the collection and cradled the thing to her chest. The plushie had soft black fur and a red Santa suit on, and as she dropped her face forward, she knocked his white-trimmed hat off.
“I think you should take over from Eastwind,” Candy said.
“What does that even mean,” Lydia mumbled.
Even though she knew: The man’s voice came to her mind, sure as if he were beside her and whispering in her ear: Nothing happens on my mountain without me knowing about it.
“You’re going to need a job after—” Candy steepled her red-and-green nail tips. “Well, everyone needs a job, don’t they.”
Lydia looked at Daniel.
He was staring at her with a somber expression, and when he started to cough, he was quick to shut the throat spasm down, covering his mouth with his hand, as if he didn’t want to remind her of what she couldn’t forget.
“You were protecting the wolves before,” he said. “So just keep doing that—and maybe add a couple of acres. You love it up there anyway. That’s your joy.”
You’re my joy, she thought.
Still, deep inside of her, her wolven self prowled against the cage of her will, wanting out right now, so it could go home up on the elevation, smelling the pine and feeling the earth underfoot.
The mountain had always been her solace. But if she went there, just because Daniel died and she needed a place to bury her grief? She’d end up hating the place.
“No,” she said as she forcefully got to her feet. “And I’m sorry we bothered you. We have to go now.”
Candy’s blue eyelids narrowed. “You can’t run from what’s going to happen to him—”
“Are you really talking about Daniel like he isn’t even here?”